Down South
by Unstable Waterbottle
Summary: A visit, a story, and Canada being a hero.. sort of.


The reason why everyone in the plain, boring meeting room was staring lustfully at the completely dressed American representative was simple. Really, it was. It was about three months ago that Alfred decided out of the blue to go hang out down south of his country in places like Mississippi, Alabama, Louisiana, Virginia, Tennessee, and so on and so forth.

He had a home in every one, and a state representative to welcome him when he stepped off the plane. He loved his southern states as much as he did his northern ones, despite the whole seceding thing. And they were doing a lot better nowadays, really. There was still civil conflict every so often and political debates, but he doubted that the south would ever leave him again.

So because America joined his southern people for about two and a half months, he obviously gained a.. uh.. southern accent. It happened sometimes, countries getting an accent from being in one part of their country for a good while. Hell, England did it all the time with how much he visits the Queen and then turns around to go see his farmers. He'd sound all proper one day, then at the next meeting he had this scratchy voice that reminded them of how Scotland spoke.

But this was America. Alfred. The United States of fucking America.

And he sounded fucking hot with a southern accent.

Like fuck.

Ahm. We should start from the beginning of the meeting, actually.

This meeting was being held at England's place, so most of the countries were bitterly watching the rain that continued to drizzle outside. Germany had quieted everyone down with a slam of his fist and a shout that was more directed towards France with his leering actions than anyone. England stood up then, his back a little straighter as he tuned into his public speaking mode.

But before he said anything, he paused. He narrowed his green eyes and scanned the dozens of chairs one after the other, taking in every face he saw. In his mind, he was naming each country as they were mentally checked off. He got back around to where he sat, and almost instantly, he grit his teeth.

"Where the bloody hell is America?" Britain asks the room. His eyes follow the conversation from a country to the next trying to hear what they said. His irritation peaks. Apparently, no one had even seen him today, "Does that idiot not know we had a meeting today? I swear, when he gets here-" The rest of his sentence was muffled as he grumbled to himself.

"Don't be so harsh, mon ami. Amérique does need to fly all the way across the Atlantic Ocean to reach this tiny little island. It's very difficult to find on a map seeing as it's so small," France piped up, using America as a way of insulting his old friend. England takes the bait, and soon they're bickering again.

It wasn't long after that when the other country's started to speak amongst themselves as well. As they say, when one goes, they all go. From Poland to Lithuania, N. Italy to Germany, Spain to Romano, etc, etc, the whole room was loud and jumping just as it was before the meeting began.

Then while England was attempting to choke France, the door opened and in stepped the perpetrator. America grinned at the familiar sight, and before anyone had time to truly acknowledge him, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Well, it's awfully kind of y'all ta start the meetin' widout me," He pouted, but the consequence of hearing his words froze the entire world. Literally.

First, everyone just stared. Their thoughts were composed of repeating the words he used in their heads, and trying to understand why the hell they just came out of his mouth. Their second thought was all along the lines of, 'Holy hell that was hot'. And this is where we left off at the beginning.

"A-America," Britain gaped, but he quickly shook his head and tried to regain his composure since he was a gentleman, "You're late! Do you have an actual reason or were you just being annoying?" He forced himself to scowl.

America took this as his moment to walk to his seat, and damn did he walk. He hopped into each step with every long stride, showing off that ass as he basically strut down to where he was supposed to be sitting. The blond didn't even notice all the eyes focused in on his backside, since he was more content with chatting to his brother (who was totally used to this kind of change and totally not staring at that perfect ass he called a neighbor).

"Ay, Mattie, 'ow's it goin'?" He plopped down in his seat.

"F-Fine, Al," Canada swallowed thickly, trying to avoid eye contact, "How a-about you?"

"I'm glowin' as much as the sun do in the summer," America laughed, making everyone in the room shrink down at the loud noise, "I went down south to visit and eat a whole heap of dem ole fashioned biscuits with jelly," He licked his lips, and France followed the movement with his eyes shamelessly, "Was the best damn sumpt'n I've had since the forming of MacDonald's."

Oh, how everyone was imagining the dirtiest of things right now. Even the Italy's were glancing nervously to each other before returning their gaze back to the American. No one could take their eyes off of him and his newly tan skin (It was usually tanned anyways, but now it was darker as if he'd been out in the sun all day), and they all strained to listen to that beautiful accent. It wasn't very often that they heard a deep southern accent from America after all.

"V-Vell, since America is here, ve should begin ze meeting," Germany interrupted Alfred while he was in the middle of telling something he did while on break, not that anyone truly cared. Immediately glares filled his vision, and he was even surprised to see Italy pouting at him.

"Aight, aight, ya don't have ta kick up a ruckus," America grinned, and Prussia (why was he even here?) along with a few others started to scoot in closer to where the blond was.

"Yes, of course," Britain smoothed over with a cough, not wanting to admit he was also hanging on to every word the man sitting next to him said.

So the meeting went on, and no one was actually paying attention except, surprisingly, America. England was embarrassingly prideful about having his full attention all to himself, and everyone could see the way his eyes gleamed at his past colony. Due to this, many of the countries took it upon themselves to interrupt or bring attention to them instead just to get those blue eyes shining in their direction.

They all unanimously decided to plow through the meeting without a break since it was a short meeting for them anyways and they didn't have a lot to talk about. Every one of them glared at each other, waiting for the last person to finish before they could attempt to steal America and most probably ravish him at the first chance they got.

Just as England brought the meeting to a close, America was surrounded. Italy was hanging off one of his arms, rambling on about pasta and dates. France was indiscreetly wrapping his arms around the other's middle, lowering his hands when he wasn't paying attention and nodding every so often. Prussia had his own arms locked around Alfred's neck, groping at his chest visibly. Even China and Russia stood close by, glaring viciously at their 'competition' while trying to bring America into a discussion about something irrelevant.

England stood off to the side, pulling at his collar and pretty much undressing the blond in his mind. Canada and Germany stood near them, and while Germany was as much into the accent as everyone else, he refrained from letting his desire known lest it become a weakness (whilst every other country threw themselves at America's feet). Canada, however, was irritated. He'd heard that southern accent before, and he loved every vowel that came out of his neighbor's mouth. He had even gotten good at hiding how much he wanted Alfred to himself for the sake of not embarrassing him.

Canada, to be honest, wanted to rip his clothes off and make him sing with that accent. But that might cause some more unresolved feelings and dreams that made him change his sheets each night. Besides, he thought smugly, he was the closest to America by far, as a country and a friend. If anyone was calling first dibs, it was him.

From the perspective of the victim, Alfred was smooshed in between the countries. He continued to smile and nod at different things that were being shouted his way. He really did try to listen to everything everyone was saying, that was just southern courtesy, but no one stopped to let him reply. He pouted, not feeling the hands roaming his body since Italy was staring so expectantly up at him as he purposed different activities.

America loved hanging out with the other countries, but it seemed sort of odd how much they wanted to be around him today. Maybe it was the perfume his plane buddy sprayed on him. She was a lovely old lady who was also going to Europe after being in the south and simply adored him. They watched a bunch of movies together and shared snacks during the flight.

Now, he wasn't claustrophobic in any way usually, but today he was feeling a little too caged. Alfred hesitantly raised his head, and turned to find Canada over the heads of everyone attached to him. He spotted him a ways away from where he was at, filing a bunch of papers on the table like he would normally be doing.

As if feeling his stare, Matthew looked directly at him quickly, and upon seeing his panicked smile, took action. Alfred couldn't see much of what he did, but it obviously did the trick since soon everyone turned their attention to a familiar polar bear who was eating a screaming England's notes. In the distraction, he was yanked away by his savior Matthew Williams and rushed outside of the room.

"Shucks, thank ye, Mattie," He breathed out as they paced themselves down the hall, "I thought I was gonna be ripped apart over yonder with all that hootin 'na hollerin'," Canada smiled a thin smile and repeated to himself over and over that he could not push America into a storage closet and lock it to give them privacy.

"It was nothing," Matthew shook his head, "B-But you really should be careful, Al. Those guys looked like they were gonna eat you up," Literally.

"Nah, there ain't no way they would've done sumpt'n like that," Point proven. Even Canada wanted to eat him up. Still, Alfred was as oblivious as always.

"So.. You stayed with Virginia for a little while?" He asked, feeling the need to listen to everything he said. Said person brightened up instantly at the mention of one of his favorite states.

"Yep! Ginny and me hung out 'til the stars was shining outside," Alfred loved making up nicknames for his states. They usually just dealt with it, "We done strolled around her plant home, and I helped 'er pick this season's crops," He said proudly.

Matthew smiled fondly as they exited the building through the back door so they wouldn't be seen as easily, and continued to listen to him ramble. He always enjoyed the fact that America never left the roots of his first colonies. He still loves to farm and scavenge for crops like he did not only in British America with his colonists, but also in Native America with his tribes.

Not many people knew that he could speak every tribal language and foreign language that resided in his country. Canada could do the same, but it still impressed him to see America, who most believed squandered his treasures, to hang on to each thread that made him real.

"We did get into a lick o'trouble with the po-lice though," Alfred said sheepishly, grinning as he rubbed the back of his neck. Canada raised an eyebrow.

"What did you two do?" He sighed, glancing around the parking lot for his truck that he came in. It took a minute, but he soon found it due to Kuwalika sitting on the roof where he was sure there'd be a dent.

"Well.. Ya see, we met up with a couple of Virginian kids, ya?"

"Uh huh," Matthew nodded, motioning for him to carry on as he checked behind them to make sure no one was following them. Clear.

"And they was behind this big ole capitol building, so Gin and me went ta check it out," He wiggled his fingers into his gloves since it was chilly outside, "It was kinda funny. They had some moonshine, right?" Canada's head snapped up as they entered his truck.

"Moonshine?!" He stressed, knowing how strong that type of alcohol was.

"Aha, yeah," Alfred grinned, "We knew that ain't sumpt'n ya should let kids drink on their first time gettin' drunk, so we confiscated it," Well, Matthew supposed that was better than letting the kids have it, "And we got drunk instead," His head smashed into the steering wheel.

"You got drunk on moonshine?" Matthew groaned, rubbing the spot where he'd hit his head, "Alfred, you know how potent that stuff is. What if you or Virginia got hurt? Or hurt someone else?" He scolded, but America wasn't done.

"Naah, s'fine, Matt. We took it back to her house and were fixin' to pour it over some ice. I mean, yeah, we got drunk off our asses, but we might could've done worse. And we did," Canada felt his lips twitch up at that part, "We busted up in town, runnin' like the wind 'cause Gin bet I couldn't beat her in a race. She sho was on the wrong side of the track since I made it across the concrete quicker than lightnin'," He paused in his story to scratch his cheek, and Matthew tried to keep his focus on driving down the road, "Jus' so happens that there was a hidden po-lice man parked in an ally way. His car was nosed out, and I barely had time to check on Ginny behind me befo' I barreled into it."

"You.. smashed a police car?" He couldn't say he was too surprised since America was incredibly strong. Still, he couldn't believe he actually did it.

"Ye."

"... You're ridiculous," Canada smiled. He glanced away from the road for a split second to look at America, almost regretting it since his breath was taken away. He had the windows rolled down, so his hair was being blown backwards, giving him this air swept look. The sun just so happened to be peeking out of the clouds in the moment due to the absence of rain and the whole scene looked almost heavenly. Damn American.

"Yeah, but ya love me anyways," Alfred grinned specifically at him, and Matthew couldn't keep the blush off his cheeks.

"Whatever," He rolled his eyes, his fists tightening around the steering wheel.

"I ate some Po Boys too," He added, "They was perfect. Ya really gotta come down south with me one day, Mattie," Matthew's eye twitched. What a perfect innuendo.

"Uh huh," He replied absently. America really needed to stop being so obviously innocent. He was too cute for his own good, though Canada did know he was incredibly strong enough to handle himself. Still, other nations would try to take advantage of him, like they tried to today.

"I even learned how to break certain codes in Mississippi. Ole Miss loved havin' me down, and we took turns hacking into.. uh.. things," He snickered.

"I see." Matthew was thinking about where their hotel was. They were staying at the same place, and their rooms were literally right across from each other, probably courtesy of England who knew America wouldn't get up on his own and expected Canada to wake him up instead.

"Um.. Mattie?" Should they just hang out until the day was done? Canada knew Alfred brought his game consols with him considering he often said Britain was extremely boring in that department. That would mean staying in control for the whole day despite that really cute southern accent. Somewhere along the lines, Matthew remembered to answer.

"Yeah?" He heard shuffling from his right, but he was trying to stay focused on the road so he didn't check.

"The Southern states told me somethin' else too, ya know," Al sounded close, and he sounded like he was up to something.

"O-Oh. What's that?" He asked softly, starting to feel the heat rise to his cheeks again as he felt America getting way too close to where he was sitting. Did America even know what he was doing to him right now?

"Told me where ya like to be kissed the most," And just like that, he could feel his lips hovering over the side of his neck before leaving an invisible print of where he kissed. Of course he would know exactly what he was doing.

"We're going to my room," Canada instantly decided. America snickered.

"Right on, cowboy."

* * *

A little break for some Southern America and Canada. Anyways, what'd y'all think? It was just a little something I wrote up this morning and decided I liked


End file.
